


round and round forever

by sincereously



Series: A Dream of Spring Rare Pairs Week 2020 [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning, past canonical character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23207035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincereously/pseuds/sincereously
Summary: Oberyn has a plan. Ellaria's not so sure.
Relationships: Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand
Series: A Dream of Spring Rare Pairs Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665037
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	round and round forever

**Author's Note:**

> For the A Dream of Spring Rare Pairs Week on Tumblr - day 4, tears.

Ellaria had never heard Sunspear so quiet before. The last two years had been an agony of waiting for bad news and praying it would not be worse, and even though they all knew that the knife would fall eventually, the Trident and the Sack still tore deeply into the heart of every Dornish man, woman, and child. The war may be done, but there was nothing left to Dorne but the bones and the grief. People walked about talking in soft voices, unable to meet each other’s eyes. It was as if the whole land was too sorrowful even to weep.

 _And we may have yet more cause for tears before long,_ Ellaria thought as she cracked open the dark wooden door leading to Oberyn’s laboratory. _Unless I can stop it._

A slight stringent scent filled her nose as she entered the cramped chamber, carefully avoiding the shelves of iron measuring tools and strange dried-out creatures just beside the door. The only light came from the glowing candles set into the wall and from the narrow window just above the rows of books on the far wall, barred with dark metal. In the middle of the room, Oberyn hunched over a large wooden desk covered with deep stains and burn marks. He acknowledged her with a nod and turned back to his work, holding up a flask full of clear liquid to the dimming sunlight.

“What’s that?”

“Tears of Lys,” he murmured. “Very rare. Odorless, colorless, virtually undetectable in food or drink. It eats away at the belly and bowels, lets a man linger in agony for days in you dose it correctly.” He shook his head and slammed the flask onto the desk so hard that Ellaria feared the glass might shatter. “Not good enough. Too fast.”

“I see,” Ellaria said carefully. “And when you finally find the one that’s good enough, what would your plan be then?”

He narrowed his eyes, making the dark circles underneath seem that much bigger. “Say it. Whatever you’re trying to tell me, just say it. I’ve had enough of double-talk.”

She crossed her arms, then thought better of it and uncrossed them. Cutting herself off would do no good here. “I heard that you have a horse waiting for you in the stables tonight and a ship ready to sail tomorrow morning. It doesn’t take much thinking to know where they’re going.”

Oberyn did not insult her intelligence by trying to deny it, at least. He leaned back against the wall and tilted his head, waiting, saying _and so?_

Ellaria approached the desk in tiny steps, her hands held behind her back. “Oberyn,” she said, “love, you’d never get away with it. They have dozens of food tasters and hundreds of guards and spies everywhere - ”

Oberyn laughed bitterly. “You think I’d get caught? Such small faith.”

“I think that if you were to poison Tywin Lannister, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from letting everyone know. Maybe not with words, but they’d know all the same.”

His mouth twisted into what she would have called a smirk, were it not for the blankness in his eyes. “So let them know,” he retorted. “I have no problem with that. They owe me a debt, and Lannisters are so proud of paying them.”

“And where will we all be once you’ve collected your payment?” Ellaria rested her hand on the desk, tracing a whorl of the stained wood. She swallowed hard, focused on keeping her voice steady. “Will we have to dig more graves, then?”

Oberyn slapped his hands against the desk and stalked over to her. “What do you want from me?” he whispered hoarsely, his face inches from hers.

Ellaria ached to hold him, but he shook so hard that she feared a touch would break him. Instead she said, “Come with me.”

“Come with you where? To Doran?” he hissed. “To the man who graciously let Jon Arryn wipe his boots on him when he should have shoved a spear in his gut?”

“To your _brother_ , Oberyn,” she said, a lump forming in her throat. “Gods help us, to the sibling you still have. Who still has _you_.”

Something in Oberyn relaxed, cracked - only for a moment, however, and then his hackles rose again. "Do not speak to me of siblings," Oberyn ground out. "Don't you _dare_."

 _He forgot that I loved her too,_ she thought, and the spark of anger in her gut startled her. It was a better feeling than grief, at least - is that why Oberyn clung to it so desperately? Her hands were nearly touching his, and he had not yet moved away.

"So you would collect your debt," she started slowly. "And then the Lannisters and the Baratheons would want payment from you, from all of Dorne. More wars, more broken people - Oberyn, if spilling blood would bring them back I would happily lift the knife myself, but it won't. You know it won't."

His thumb brushed against her hand, and she could nearly touch her forehead against his shoulder. "I can't let it be, Ellaria," he whispered. "This mockery of justice, I won't let that be all that's left of Elia and her children."

She blinked her tears back. "And if it must, then so be it, but not like this." Her voice finally broke as she said, "Please, Oberyn, not like this."

It was the _please_ that startled him the most, she would think later. He finally pulled her against him, and she rested against his chest, so warm and alive. _May he stay that way for a long, long time,_ she thought, _let him grow to be old, let him care for his daughters and smile with his brother again..._

_Peace. Let us all have peace._


End file.
